


Late to the Party

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Gen Fic, Phone Calls, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter messes up with Elizabeth and follows Mozzie's clues, all so he can receive a phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late to the Party

No words needed to be said. When Peter saw the look on Elizabeth's face, a mixture of exasperation and disappointment, he knew he was in trouble. He didn't even need the face. The second he walked into the party (El's birthday party, no less) two hours late, it was going to be bad.

Peter was late all the time. There were nights when he didn't come home until after midnight, or didn't come home at all, and El took it in stride. When he'd apologize, she'd just kiss his forehead and say she understood. And she did. She knew she was married to a workaholic (she could get that way sometimes, too) and that his work was important. Not just to him, but to the greater good. Most of the time, nearly _all_ the time, it was okay.

This was one of the few exceptions.

One the car ride home, Peter started with an apology.

"Don't," Elizabeth said, looking out the window. "All I wanted was to come first for once."

"You do come first," Peter said.

"You could have fooled me. I don't ask you for much, Peter. When it comes to events or important dates, I never expect anything. But it was my stupid fortieth birthday and all I wanted was for you to be at my party."

For an instant, Peter wished he had been in a fire fight. Arresting someone. Being thrown into the Hudson by a suspect. Doing something that would justify him being two hours late to the party. But as it was, there wasn't any kind of excuse. He had been in the office doing research and the time had gotten away from him.

He didn't think pointing out that he _had_ been there would help. It was the principle of the matter and he knew that.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" Peter asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "Nothing," she said. "It's too late. Maybe when I turn fifty."

Ouch. Okay, apologizing wouldn't do it. Sending flowers or gifts to her on Monday wouldn't do it either. Too obvious. They didn't fight often, but he knew from their previous fights (no one can do fifteen years of marriage without _some_ fighting) that Elizabeth was a sulker and grudge-holder. This could go on for weeks if he didn't do something.

"I don't want to fight," Elizabeth said when they got home. "Let's just forget about it."

"Sounds good," Peter replied, but he knew it wasn't going to be as easy as that.

Sure enough, the next morning, Elizabeth was short with him, and even snapped at him over breakfast. Yeah, Peter knew he had to do something to make this end. He hated the tension in the house. And since it was Saturday, they were going to be together most of the day. Under normal circumstances, he'd be happy about this. Today, it just made the day long.

It didn't help that when Elizabeth got the mail, there was a birthday card for her from Neal. Neal, who they hadn't seen in over a year since he had his anklet removed, had remembered her birthday. _He_ wouldn't have been late for the party. Of course, if Neal were still there, Peter probably wouldn't have been late, either. Neal would have reminded him.

"That's sweet," Elizabeth said, with the first genuine smile Peter had seen on her face all day. She passed Peter the card. "It was nice of him to remember."

The card was fairly generic with brightly colored flowers, and on the inside Neal had written,

 _Elizabeth,  
I'm sorry I can't be there, but I'm thinking of you. I hope your birthday is wonderful.  
Love,  
Neal_

Perfect, Peter thought. Just what he needed. Neal Caffrey showing him up from... wherever. Peter grabbed the pale pink envelope and checked the postmark. San Francisco. He didn't even want to think about all the trouble Neal could get into there. Of course, this was Neal. He could get in trouble anywhere.

But Neal wouldn't be in trouble with Elizabeth. In fact, Neal would probably know the secret to getting Peter out of the doghouse.

Suddenly, Peter knew exactly what to do.

That afternoon, Peter made a phone call. He let the phone ring twice, then he hung up.

This is so stupid, he thought as he called the number back and this time let it ring three times before hanging up. He knew he was calling a cell phone. Mozzie would be able to _see_ that it was him. But instead of complaining to himself, he called back a third time and let the phone ring once.

Five minutes later, Peter received a text that said, "The first at the second new book, 7PM".

"What the hell," Peter muttered. Why couldn't something just be normal? At least it wasn't a poem. He blinked at the text, feeling compelled to call and leave a message telling Mozzie to just give him a damn address, but he was the one looking for a favor. He would play the game as long as this was the only step. If he got there (wherever that was) and found another clue, he was going back home.

First at the second... what was the new book? He furrowed his brow and gazed across the room. This had to be easy. Then his eyes settled on the Bible sitting on the shelf. New Testament.

"First and St. Mark's Place," Peter said aloud.

Luckily, Elizabeth had to work that evening, so when Peter left it didn't seem like he was skipping out on her. That was the last thing he wanted to do right then. It would only make things worse.

St. Mark's Place was busy, and Peter felt stupid just standing on the street corner. People walked past him, most not even noticing him, and a few bumped into him without saying a word. Out of habit, he checked to make sure his wallet hadn't been lifted. He swallowed uncomfortably when he noticed a young lesbian couple checking him out. Weren't they supposed to not be interested?

"Ah, Suit," said a familiar voice from behind him. "You made it." Peter spun around and there was Mozzie. He looked exactly the same as the last time Peter had seen him, two weeks after Neal left town.

"Hey, Mozzie," Peter replied. "Is all the phone call runaround really necessary?"

"It's for my own protection," Mozzie replied, holding up a finger to Peter. "Now, come."

Peter followed Mozzie down the street and into a seedy bar. Mozzie spoke with the bartender for a moment, and then led Peter into a back room. There were a couple filthy looking couches and a table with two metal folding chairs. Peter opted for one of the chairs.

"What can I do for you today, Suit?" Mozzie asked, sitting in the other chair. He folded his hands and looked patiently at Peter.

"I need to get in contact with Neal."

"You think I know where he is? You know Neal. When he wants to disappear, he does just that. He's gone. A ghost. Invisible." Mozzie punctuated each word with a large hand gesture.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "I know he's in San Francisco. I just need a phone number. Or tell him to call me."

"Assuming I know how to do what you're asking of me, why would I do that? If he wanted you to know how to contact him, he would have told you himself," Mozzie said. "He probably doesn't want you calling him every time you need a hand on a case. He's done being a federal stooge."

"It's not about a case. It's... it's personal."

"Ahh, trouble with Mrs. Suit, then. How was her party? Did she get my gift?"

"Yeah, she did. The party was... never mind, Mozzie, can you just do this for me?" Peter asked. "Please."

Mozzie stared at him, possibly considering his sincerity, and nodded. "I'll see what I can do. I'm not making any promises."

"Thank you. I'll owe you one."

"I'll put that one on the list."

\--- --- ---

Tuesday afternoon, Peter was sitting in the office with an open file on his desk and a different file open on his monitor. Everything was blending together. He couldn't get his head around this case (which is how he ended up two hours late to the party in the first place). He had never been more grateful to hear his cell phone ringing.

He picked it up and looked at the number. He'd never seen it before, but the area code... California. He grinned and answered.

"Hello?"

"Now, Peter, what could be so important that you went to all this trouble to get in contact with me?" Neal asked, that blinding smile obvious in his voice.

Peter sat back in his chair. It had been a long time. The last time he had spoken to Neal was the night they removed the anklet. The next day, Neal was gone. Peter knew that was coming, but he didn't expect it to be so abrupt, but he understood. He didn't have to like it, but he understood.

"It's good to hear your voice, Neal."

"Yours too. What's up?"

He hesitated, feeling suddenly awkward, but once he started telling Neal about what happened Friday night, it got easier. It was days later and Elizabeth was still acting cold to him. "I don't know what to do," he said, finishing up his story.

Neal, who hadn't said a word while Peter was speaking, laughed. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me how to fix this. I messed this one up big time, and I don't even want to think about how long this could go on for. Once El gets her teeth in something, she doesn't let go."

"Considering how often she lets you off the hook, I don't blame her," Neal replied.

"Thanks," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Peter, there's not one thing you can do to make this better. Just... be there. Leave work early a few days a week. Or even leave on time. Make dinner. See the movie she wants to see."

"Won't that be obvious?"

"Who cares? She won't. Even if it's obvious that you're trying to get on her good side, she's going to appreciate the effort. All of this started because she wanted you to be at the party. She didn't care about whatever you got her, or how many other people showed up. She wanted _you_ to be there. Having you around is all she wants, and it hurt that you couldn't show up on time on the one day that mattered to her."

Peter considered that for a moment. "You're right," he said with a sigh. "I should have known that."

"Yeah, you should have," Neal replied. Peter could practically hear that fond smile. It wasn't until right then that he realized how much he missed having Neal around. It would have made this process hell of a lot easier. He liked having Neal there, and not just because of his insight on their cases and Peter's personal life. Neal was a good friend and somehow Peter had forgotten that.

"So," Peter said, "when do you think you'll be back in New York?"

Neal laughed. "I don't know. It's been kind of nice being somewhere else."

"Are you still in San Francisco?"

"Yeah, but I'm leaving tomorrow. Heading to Rio."

Peter put a hand to his face. "Do I even want to know what you'll be doing there?"

"Probably not," Neal admitted. "Don't worry, Peter. I'm keeping out of trouble."

"That's not reassuring... so I guess this number's going to be void by then. Or by the time this call ends."

"You miss me," Neal said, like he just realized it.

"Yeah," Peter said without posturing. "We all do, Neal."

There was a long pause, and Peter actually checked to see if the call had been disconnected, but Neal was still there.

"Give me another year," Neal said finally. "Or... you know what? Tell Elizabeth I won't miss her next birthday. And I'll make sure you don't miss it either."

Peter smiled. "Sounds good. Stay safe, Sundance."

Neal laughed. "You too, Butch."

The call was over. Peter looked at his phone in his hand and smiled as it flipped over to the time. 4:22. If he left now, he would definitely beat Elizabeth home and he knew they had everything for spaghetti and meatballs. He could make that and it wouldn't be a total disaster.

It was a start.


End file.
